Support Group
by Shannon730
Summary: Everyone has their own demons to face.


Ianto walked around the small group handing mugs of coffee to each person. They were all here, everyone but Gwen; she didn't belong at this meeting. She hadn't seen enough, suffered enough. This wasn't a Torchwood meeting, it was a—well they really hadn't bothered to name it, but it was a kind of support group.

This, however, was no ordinary support group; it wasn't for anything as simple as lost loved ones, drugs, alcohol, or any of the other addictions and issues for which most people needed support groups. This was a very small, very private group who needed to talk about things that most people couldn't imagine, and certainly couldn't understand. They had all lost loved ones, but that wasn't why they were here. They hadn't been victims of a crime, well not the kind one usually found these sort of meetings for, anyway. Drugs and alcohol weren't the problem either. No, their demons were much worse than those things. Their demons were aliens, and cannibals, and apocalypses. Things only the people sitting in this room at this moment could truly understand. So, they met here once a month and talked about things, about their nightmares, the causes of their nightmares, their work, and anything else that sets them apart from the world that they keep safe.

Ianto handed the first mug to Martha; this group was actually her idea. She'd suggested it not long after calling off her engagement to Tom. The relationship had ended because Martha had nightmares nearly every night. Her inability to talk to him about them had strained their relationship past the breaking point. What could she have told him though? That she couldn't sleep at night because every time she closed her eyes she dreamt of a year that he couldn't remember? A year that no one but a handful of people could even remember? Not only did she remember, but she had suffered more than he could imagine. She'd walked the world, alone. Walked with the knowledge that if she failed, the world would end. The fate of the world, literally, depended on her making that trip. How could she have explained to him that she had to see everyone she cared for being tortured at the hands of an evil Time Lord that was trying to take over the world? She couldn't have told him about so many of the biggest experiences of her life. She couldn't have told him about the hospital she worked in being taken to the moon, or that she was almost killed when she'd been in a spaceship that had gotten too close to the sun. Only the people in this room could really understand any of those things, the things that she would never have been able to tell Tom.

Then there was Tosh. Like everyone at Torchwood Three, she was alone to deal with her demons. She'd been imprisoned for creating a device that she was blackmailed into making to save her mother. She'd been targeted by an alien that used her to find a way back to her own planet. She'd fallen in love with a soldier from World War One only to have to not only lose him but to send him back to his own time with the knowledge that he'd be killed. She'd been kidnapped by cannibals and was nearly their next meal. She'd devoted so many years of her life to Torchwood, and endured all which commitment entailed. She never complained about the hours or abuse suffered at the hands of Weevils and other aliens. She just continued to work in silence… until Martha suggested this group and gave her the chance to talk.

Owen was next. Ianto didn't give him coffee. Unlike the rest of them, Owen hadn't necessarily suffered his demons in silence. Not since Katie died. He'd made sure everyone suffered as well. But he still had to face nightmares no one else understood. Katie hadn't died in a car accident, or from cancer, or from any other cause that most could understand. She had an alien attached to her brain. It had taken a while, but he'd fallen in love again—with a woman who'd fallen through the rift, and had then left him to find her way back. Then of course, there was the biggest of all demons: he was dead. He'd been shot and brought back by Jack. He was forced to continue to live for who knew how long without really living. He didn't eat, sleep, breathe, or shag. He just existed. There weren't a lot of support groups for the dead.

Ianto set Jack's mug in front of him and smiled softly. Jack had the most reasons to be here, and Ianto was pretty sure he hadn't even begun to tell them about his demons. He had been killed more times than he could count. He'd lived over a hundred years in a century he didn't belong in, searching for someone who didn't want him when he did find finally find him again. He'd watched countless friends, lovers, and spouses die. He carried the weight of Torchwood Three on his shoulders, taking each and every death and injury personally. He'd lost his father and brother so young, and had spent his very long life with the burden of believing it was his fault. He'd lived through that year with Martha. He hadn't walked the earth, he'd spent it being tortured, waiting and hoping that Martha would save him, save everyone. Even with all of that, which Ianto suspected didn't even scratch the surface, he always went out of his way to make everyone as happy has he could, to make sure no one realized how much he truly suffered.

Ianto took his own seat next to Jack. After Canary Wharf he had never thought he'd find a place where he'd fit in again. Never find people who would understand what he'd been through. But he'd come to Torchwood Three out of necessity. He had truly believed Lisa was alive and that this was the only place that could save her. He hadn't expected to find people to care for, to love. Then Lisa had…she'd not been herself anymore and he'd seen her do things that still caused him to be overwhelmed with guilt for keeping her alive, for letting others die. Then he'd joined Tosh as a possible dinner for insane cannibals. He'd been shot by Owen, and been nearly killed by men using an alien for meat. He'd watched the man he loved die, over and over. He'd always cleaned up the pieces in silence, until these meetings started. Now he looked forward to being able to talk about all of it without anyone questioning his sanity.

Gwen was the only one not here. It wasn't that she hadn't suffered because of this work; Suzie had nearly killed her to save her own life. She'd been taken hostage by aliens. Gwen had gone through things, had suffered. It was just different for her. Gwen didn't need to be here. Gwen had Rhys. Gwen wasn't alone. When she had a bad day, when the nightmares happened, she had someone to turn to. Someone she could talk to who understood. They all had each other anytime, of course, but usually while the people here were dealing with their nightmares, the only people they could turn to were also dealing with nightmares and couldn't listen to their pain. Rhys didn't have the same demons, so Gwen was different than they were.

That's why they all gathered here. They had no one to turn to that wasn't in the midst of their own nightmare when they needed someone to understand. This was the one night every month that they all set it all aside to support each other. Sometimes Ianto felt bad that Gwen was kept out of this group, that everyone else was here, but she wasn't. But then when he really thought about it, this was a group he'd rather be left out of too.

The end.


End file.
